Breathe Easy
by Prisoner of Winter
Summary: Merle knows those signs, he's seen their Daddy push Daryl to that point before. - Panic/Hyperventilating. Written for TWD kinkmeme, WIP
1. Chapter 1

A/N Written for the TWD Kinkmeme

May contain mild slash.

" Kill them!"

" Make them pay! Kill them!"

Merle surveyed the crowd – fucking vultures the lot of them. Woodbury citizens thought that their town was civilized but when it came down to it they were the worse. They were a collective mob just waiting for the first drop of blood to fall, an excuse to riot and justify it as a cause. It reminded him of the bar fights he used to enjoy initiating, the 'rational' men trying to lay reason but in the end the first to throw a punch.

Glancing at Daryl, Merle's stomach twisted as he saw his baby brother's shoulders rising and falling with sharp gasps, his face turned to the ground. His hands were tightly bound behind his back; Daryl raised his eyes to look at the crowed that seemed to deem him as scum. His eyes caught Merle's before he let out a shaky breath, lowering his eyes.

Merle could hear Andrea trying to reason with the Governor, the cunt was stupid not to see what kind of man he was. But really, that would make him a stupid cunt too because he never thought the Governor would use him like this – an escape goat to quell the fear and panic in the citizens. He knew how dangerous the Governor was, all soft words and charm, but it still hadn't stopped him from lying and saying Michonne had been killed, if only to protect himself at the time. That plan didn't work out well, like most of ol' Merle's plans.

" The people have spoken."

Daryl gasped beside him and let out a low whimper. His shoulders rose and fell with each short breath, chest pulled in and pushed out in a comical exaggeration of movement. Merle knew the signs; he'd seen their daddy push Daryl to this point in the past. It's been years since he's seen his baby brother panic like this and its all Merle can do not to pull his brother close and initiate those breathing exercises that their bitch of a social worker had taught him. Before she deemed the two of them too difficult, requesting for someone else to take their case, only the system forgot about the Dixon's and left them to their old man's heavy hand.

Merle took a step towards Daryl, speaking low in his throat, " Daryl, I need you in your right mind boy." Merle wasn't always the most tactful person, but he tried, even if comforting people wasn't his thing.

Daryl took a slightly deeper breath before glancing at Merle, giving him an incredulous look.

The Governor took a step forward and reached for Daryl, who made an almost gurgled sound as he stepped out of his grasp. He backed into one of the Governor's men and they all laughed as the man held him still. The Governor smirked, reached out and cupped Daryl's face in one hand, squeezing slightly. Merle growled low in his throat taking a step forward but arms came around him holding him in place.

"Easy now Merle, I'm just lookin', hard to imagine this pretty thing is related to you." He chuckled as his men laughed with him. The mob of citizens continued to yell their sentence of execution, but they remained deaf to the words the Governor spoke to his men and prisoners, " Simply killing you two wouldn't be fair to my men, seeing as they have lost a few of their comrades because of your act of… what did I call it… ah yes terrorism."

"I didn' lead them here I swear." Merle growled, " And that nigger bitch was as good as dead in the red zone."

The Governor scoffed, "That's behind us Merle, my people want justice."

"Take them to one of the holding rooms." He commanded before turning to his town spreading his arms wide and declaring, " People of Woodbury you have spoken and justice will be served! Tomorrow we will execute the terrorists."


	2. Chapter 2

Part two  
-

They were pulled roughly away from the mob of Woodbury citizens, Merle felt a moment of relief to be out of their sight. He had done a lot for this group and for nothing, not a single person came to their defense, except Andrea. Two of the Governor's men Zackary and Jackson, were holding on tight to his arms, guns pressed to his sides. He could sense Daryl being pulled along beside him, could hear his labored breathing and grunts as he tried to pull free from the man holding him. The man whose grip bruised Daryl's arms was Mike; Merle and him used to drink and shoot the shit together while on watch duty. Any other day Merle would of considered him to be an alight guy.

"For fucks sakes." Mike cursed, before delivering a quick punch to Daryl's gut. Daryl grunted and sank to his knees coughing.

"Come on boys, you know I wouldn't lead that group here. Let up a bit. Lets talk." Merle pressed, watching his brother catch his breath. The men scoffed and shook their heads, laughing.

" Governor thinks you' a threat, then that's what you are," Mike stated, pulling up on Daryl's arm, " Come on, up. No more of that struggling shit."

The two brothers were brought to a similar holding room that Glenn and Maggie had been in. This one had a few hooks drilled into the concrete floor, which Jackson threaded some thick chain through before fastening thick cuffs to both Merle and Daryl's right ankles. Merle bashed his knee forward into the fuckers face, causing Zackary to step forward and hit him across the head with his gun. The blow was forceful, but Merle just laughed it off, his vision coming in and out of focus. Smirking as he watched Jackson wipe blood from his lip.

His amusement pissed the men off and Mike grabbed Daryl by his hair pushing him to his knees, pulling his head back and placing his large hunting knife to the shaking man's throat.

" Sit on the ground Merle, no more shit." Mike ground out. Daryl's breathing became even more labored, and he made a strangled noise of protest as Mike's knife nicked his throat, a small trickle of blood making its way across his gritty, dirty skin. Raising his one hand in surrender, Merle sank onto the concrete floor. Jackson moved forward to bind his arms to his sides using a thick rope, Merle didn't look away from his lil' brother, who's breathing seemed to have only increased in speed. The short inhales and exhales was the only thing he seemed to be able to focus on.

" 'm gonna bash yer head in when ah get out of here." Merle growled out to Mike.

Once Merle was safely secured, Jackson looked over at the other two men. "Governor say anything about not roughin' these two up?"

"Don' think so." Zackary laughed, moving forward. His eyes wondered across Daryl's lithe form and Merle growled low in his throat, "The Governor was righ', he is pretty. Maybe we'll get to fuck him before we kill him, would be a waste not to."

Daryl whimpered and moved away from the larger man, pressing himself against Mike's front, who pulled him to his feet and against his chest. He trailed his hand across the panicked man's stomach to rest just above his waistband, pressing an open mouth kiss to his neck, "Would ya like that?" he whispered.

"Fuck you." Daryl ground out.

" Never pegged ya fer a bunch of faggots." Merle growled out, feeling sick from the display and panic shooting into his stomach, twisting his guts. The Governor's men were sick and deprived. He was no better, he had participated with past women hostages after they had killed their husbands and sons. Although rape made him uneasy, it wasn't smart to draw attention to your morals or question what the Governor asked of you.

Only hours ago, Merle had been one of these men, they had been comrades, that should of counted for something.

The men laughed, Mike pushed Daryl to the ground roughly and stood up, "Best not do anythin' without orders. They are secure, you two stand guard outside, I'll report to the Governor."

The two Dixon brothers were left in the room, Daryl laying on his side, arms tied behind his back. His breathing had become almost unbearably difficult, black spots dancing across his vision. Merle shuffled forward the best he could while bound, finally alone and able to help his younger brother.


	3. Chapter 3

Part 3/?

Merle kneeled beside Daryl, careful not to touch him. His little brother was tough, he had seen him take down countless walkers, sit through a beating and hold his own. However, when it came to people the boy was weak. His pa was a mean son of a bitch, and their ma cold and frigid. Daryl's panic largely stemmed from people touching him, even if the touch was fleeting with no malice behind it; Daryl would tense up or shy away. Sometimes, when Merle let himself be pulled into the dark past, he wondered what else his pa did to his little brother, whether all his abuse had been purely beating on him or if there was a more twisted secret behind Daryl's reluctance to be touched.

" Daryl, try to sit up." Merle commanded softly. Daryl shifted and brought himself to his knees, the action difficult because of his bound hands and his erratic breathing. Merle could tell that his brother was becoming light headed by the way he swayed slightly when he had finally settled onto his knees. His shoulders rose and fell; short panic filled gasps.

"Deep breaths in through your nose, out through your mouth slowly. That's one." Merle counted, intending to go all the way to ten and begin again. However, by the count of five Daryl's breathing had calmed and he ground out a low, " Jesus Merle, shut the fuck up."

Merle laughed and moved away from his brother, shuffling back to sit against the concrete wall. He waited for Daryl to get his shit together, before he gestured to the spot next to him. Daryl moved towards him and sat down against the wall.

Daryl laughed shakily, " Some group you found fer yerself Merle."

Merle didn't have a response to that just looked away and settled further onto the concrete floor. A couple moments of silence passed before he spoke, "First group left me handcuffed to a roof like some animal."

" We came back for yah, they're a good group. Rick's a good man, done righ' by me."

" Done righ' by you? Leaving yer kin on some roof in Atlanta?" Merle growled.

" Never stopped lookin' fer ya." Daryl glanced at him, fear and worry etched in his features, " Don' be mad at them or me Merle, I –" His breath hitched before he looked away, something passed over his features, slight anger. "ya know what? It was your own damn fault, gettin' high all the damn time. Just like before the world wen' to shit, me bailing your ass out of jail, taking care of your junkie ass."

Merle chuckled, causing his younger brother to stop mid rant, shooting a perplexed look at his brother. " Didn' know you had it in ya Darleen, standing up to ol' Merle." Shaking his head he fell silent and rested his back against the concrete wall, a smile darting across his lips, pride filling his chest. It felt good to be back with his lil' brother, even if their time together may be short.

Daryl let out a small breath of laughter and rested the back of his head against the concrete, " what's the plan?"


End file.
